


It takes three

by GreySkin



Series: Beware of Telepaths [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Caught, Cheating, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Large Breasts, Lesbian Sex, Multi, Nipple Licking, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreySkin/pseuds/GreySkin
Summary: Alternate version of Jean walking in on Emma and Scott psychic affair during Grant Morisson's New X-men. Jealousy prevails over anger and sexy stuff follows.
Relationships: Emma Frost/Jean Grey, Emma Frost/Scott Summers, Jean Grey/Scott Summers
Series: Beware of Telepaths [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175456
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	It takes three

The worst thing about walking in on Scott and Emma having their psychic affair was not the breach of trust or the humiliation. Jean knew they were only sharing thoughts. That this was more therapeutic fantasy than actual, physical or emotional cheating. Emma was dressed as the Dark Phoenix. This was about her and Scott, even if it had happened with another woman.

All of those facts still hurt, but there was worse.

Jean had spent time outside of the mental bedroom Emma had created. A lot of time.

She had stood there, not for seconds, not for a couple of stunned minutes, but for almost half an hour. She had been burning with a jealousy so violent and so confused in its target that she hadn’t been able to process what was happening in front of her.

She was jealous of the woman sleeping with her husband and the unfaithful husband sharing the bed of another woman. Of Emma Frost. Why hadn’t they invited her? She could have been there, with him, touching her, kissing her, fucking him… They could have been there together.

The moment those feelings registered; shame had hit Jean like a tidal wave. She couldn’t stand watching them anymore. She had wanted to barge in and burn everything in their minds. Hurt Scott, for doing this behind her back. Hurt Emma, for doing this without her. Instead, she had taken a step back, felling weak and sick with herself.

Emma’s mind had floated to hers before she could completely disappear from the psychic realm. The contact had been subtle, almost accidental, but Jean had bounced out of Emma’s telepathic world like a cat surprise by a loud noise.

Scott was asleep now. Mercifully, he had dropped like a log after a very long day of training and teaching. And cheating on her. Jean was sitting at the edge of the matters, her head in her hands, her long red hair falling like a curtain of fire. Sometimes, she wished she could access her darkest powers at will. She didn’t feel much when she was the Dark Phoenix, and everything was easier that way. Darker, but easier.

Anger, desire. Not much else.

_And which one of those would you act on with me?_

Emma’s mind whispered in the dark. Jean could ignore it, but she knew she needed to address this one way or the other, and she wasn’t ready to face Scott.

 _One does not exclude the other,_ she bit back with the little stamina she still possessed. Emma remained calm.

_You surprised me today. I thought you were going to attempt to kill one of us. Or both of us. But you just stood there._

_What do you want Emma? Haven’t you done enough damage for one day?_

_I’m not here to hurt you, Jean. I want to understand what happened._

_Why? So you can fuck my husband again tomorrow, guilt free? I don’t know what happened. I felt like killing the both of you and I ended up just… Standing there._

_You touched yourself._

Jean slapped her hands on her ears and closed her eyes, as if that was going to prevent Emma from talking to her telepathically. She tried to cut the contact, but the other woman kept projecting her thought at her. It was impossible to ignore them, even if Jean refused to answer.

_Does it turn you on, to see your husband cheating on you? Was it the costume? Was it the fact that he kept talking about you?_

Emma was fishing, but she was also revealing herself through her questions. She was worried, insecure about her relationship with Scott.

 _No… That’s not it,_ she mused _. So, what was it? Did you just like the show? Do you like seeing your husband with another woman?_

_Shut up, Emma._

_Oh, that’s it then. You like to watch._

There was a vulnerability in Emma’s thoughts. Like a crack in a very high and very thick wall. Even though she didn’t know what that weakness, Jean lunged forward.

 _What, disappointed?_ the redhead asked. _You wanted me to badge in, make a scene, break up with Scott so you could finally have him in your bed? I guess you can’t get him in there right now. He won’t touch you. No matter how much of a slut you make of yourself, he won’t touch you as long as I’m around._

The silence that followed was so heavy, Jean though she might drown in it. Emma wouldn’t retract her telepathic contact. She was too proud for that, too in control of herself. But the absolute stillness told Jean all she needed to know. She’d hit a nerve.

 _I guess that’s goodnight then,_ Emma managed to articulate.

_Don’t…_

_We’ve each said our piece, haven’t we? I’m the slut. And you’re the virginal wife who touches herself while looking at her husband fuck a whore. Though, I suppose whores get paid._

She should have hated Emma and relished hurting her, but this wasn’t helping at all. In fact, Jean admitted to herself in despair, she felt worse than before.

_Don’t call yourself that._

_I’m using your words._

_I’m sorry, Emma._

_For calling me a slut? I suppose I deserve it. Don’t absolve yourself with app…_

_I’m sorry I watched you have sex without signaling I was there. It was perverted and wrong. And it doesn’t make any of this right. I should have just left or… kill you both._

Emma stayed silent for a long moment. Her mental touch was still here, light and distant. Jean was glad the conversation was ending. She didn’t have much else to say, not tonight. She was exhausted. Shame and confusion had a way of draining all the fight out of her.

With a sigh, Jean stood up and changed from her day clothes to her night attire. Usually, she enjoyed sleeping bare-chested, but the thought of Scott touching her was sickening. Oversized T-shirt and pajama-shorts it was.

The sound of knocking on the door was so unexpected Jean almost mistook it for a dream. She quickly stepped outside. The last thing she needed was Scott waking up to the sound of a midnight intruder.

It was Emma, Jean realized. Emma, in a white silk robe opened on a very short nightdress. Her breasts were clearly visible through the fabric. Her pale long legs and bare foot were covered in goosebumps Her braided hair fell on her left shoulder. Her eye appeared so blue in the night light, they could have been mistaken for drops of clear sky. Her lips were slightly opened, pink and curved like rose petals.

What was she doing here?

“I should have known,” Emma breathed out, before pulling Jean into a kiss.

Jean melted. Caught fire. Died and was resurrected all at once.

She wrapped her arms around Emma’s waist and pulled the woman’s body against hers. She had never felt that before. Curves on curves. Breasts pressed together. A back arched against her palms. Long eyelashes that tickled her nose. The taste of lipstick. The smell of lavender. A tongue heavy with whiskey.

 _You’re drunk,_ Jean managed to project without being able to break the kiss.

_No. It’s just a little liquid courage. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I wasn’t sure you wanted me._

Emma’s hands were in her hair, sending shockwaves of fire down to Jean’s stomach. Jean pressed her hands against Emma’s back and sucked her tongue in. The telepath let out a sound of pleasure that made Jean’s sex throb with need. She wanted this. She wanted more. She wanted her whole world to feel like Emma. Scott had broken his vows. This was okay. This was fair. This was so good.

 _We need to move,_ Emma projected _. Somebody is going to see us._

 _Everyone’s asleep,_ Jean argued back before taking Emma’s lower lip between the teeth and biting it.

 _You’re making me moan._ Emma pulled way and whispered: “And you’re making me wet.”

Emma pressed herself against Jean’s hips. Her upper thighs were covered in her own arousal, and she was coating Jean with it.

“Fuck…” Jean turned her head away, unable to let go of Emma, but effectively preventing another kiss. Emma wasn’t faking it. She wanted her. She was ready for her. And Jean wanted to know how Emma felt, what she tasted like, what sounds she made when she came. Not those obscene whines she had given to Scott during their psychic sex. The real whimpers and plea, the gasps and swears. The real sound of Emma Frost coming undone. “We need to stop.”

“We don’t,” Emma whispered back before kissing her curve of Jean’s neck.

“Scott’s right there. I can’t do this.”

“He won’t mind.” Her lips felt like fire. “Come to my room if you don’t want to wake him up.”

“I can’t,” Jean managed to articulate. Her hands were still pressed against Emma’s back. She made no effort to let her go. “This isn’t right. I need to talk to him.”

Emma’s body tensed. Her mind curled up like a fist. She tried to take a step back, but Jean held her in a tight embrace. It wasn’t her shampoo that smelled like lavender, so it had to be her soap. Her hair was more fruity and summery.

_Don’t be angry._

_I’m not angry. I don’t believe you’ll be inclined to do this again once you’ve spoken with your husband, that’s all._

_Inclined isn’t the issue, Emma. God, I want this. I want you._ Jean pressed two kisses against the side of Emma’s skull. How could Emma doubt her? She felt so consumed with desire it was physically painful. _I want my marriage to work, and you’ve put a dent in it. I want to speak to Scott. And I want to know what you want._

_I’m a slut, Jean. You know what I want._

Emma’s hands traveled the length of Jean’s sides, stopping infuriatingly close to her ass. If it hadn’t been for the ugly word thrown back at her, Jean might have abandoned all resistance in Emma’s palms. Between her fingers. In the burn of her tongue.

“I don’t know what you want. And I’m sorry I called you that. I was angry, and it wasn’t right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“You did. A bit.”

“Well then we both are _sluts_ now. I’ve done as much damage to my vows as you. More than Scott…” Jean had meant to lift Emma’s spirit up, but she had managed to bring herself down in the process. This wasn’t right, no matter what Scott had done earlier and no matter how intoxicating and freeing it felt. “What do you want?”

“I want you,” Emma purred. “Kiss me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jean whimpered.

Emma’s lips crashed on her forcefully. This time was worse. Emma guided Jean to the nearest wall, placing herself between the redhead and the concrete. Jean’s instinct kicked in. She’d never done this before and yet she knew to press her leg between Emma’s to make her gasp. She knew to kiss her jawline to make her back arch. She knew to bite her neck to make her moan.

Emma’s hands were trailing lines of fire on her flesh. They invaded Jean’s skin, inserting themselves underneath her T-shirt. Her soft palm traced circles on Jean’s stomach, making it clench and flutter, before exploring the muscles of her back, traveling up and down her spine. Emma’s hands found her breasts. Jean gasped. She had always been sensitive, but this was different. Emma’s skin was soft, her fingers long and her nails sharp. She kneaded at her breasts before pinching her nipples. Jean let out an obscene sound, barely muffled by the crook of Emma’s neck. She wanted this so much.

“God. We need to stop.” This was a command, not a request, and Jean pilled herself away from her lover. Her right thigh was covered in Emma’s arousal. Wet stains were visible on the white nightgown and a drop was rolling down the length of Emma’s right leg.

“That’s entirely your mess,” Emma accused bitterly before readjusting her robe to hide herself.

 _You’re so beautiful, Emma, I’m sorry,_ Jean’s mind spat out in a confused avalanche of words. _I can’t do this. I’ll go too far. I can’t, I want you, but this isn’t right._

There was way too much emotion in those words, but they seemed to appease Emma. The blonde smiled crookedly.

“Go back to your marital bed, then. Before you do something you’ll regret. I’ll be here in the morning.”

The subtext was ice cold: whores were always there when you called for them. Jean didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with this now. She hardly had the energy to stand. She needed to leave, and quickly.

She dropped the ghost of a kiss on Emma’s cheek.

“I really hope you will.”

* * *

One week later:

Jean’s heart was beating so loudly she could feel it in her temples. Scott was about as tensed as she was. The past few days had been a strange mix of shame and liberation. They’d finally faced the most pressing issues with their marriage, with what they wanted from each other, with how they had failed in the past few months.

The instinct to crush Scott with guilt hadn’t taken over her. She didn’t just want a marriage. She wanted a happy marriage, and that couldn’t happen if she held Scott in bondage by his shame. Not to mention she too had slipped. Even though she had come clean about it the very next morning and it had only happened once, she had broken her marriage vows too.

And with Emma Frost, at that.

Both of them, with the same woman. A woman they had both admitted wanting in their married bed and in their married life.

Emma had refused to call it anything other than “an arrangement”. Jean had promised herself she would respect Emma’s desire for an uncomplicated, honest and emotionally reined in relationship. This was going to require a lot of self-control.

“Hey, are you okay?” Scott pulled her into a loose hug and rubbed her back gently.

“Yea. A bit nervous.”

“Me too.” Jean closed her eyes and pressed a kiss on Scott’s shoulder.

“I’ve never done this before. Don’t let me make a fool of myself.”

Scott let out a short laugh and held her tighter. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. And Emma is… Well, she knows what she’s doing.”

Of course, Scott knew that. She had the advantage of having kissed Emma before, of having felt her skin, heard her moan, smelled her flesh. Scott’s interactions had only been in the psychic realm. He had all the knowledge and her all the experience. What a marriage that was…

The knock on the door made Jean’s heart leap. Scott took a deep breath and walked to the door. Jean stretched her mind just enough to meet his, to know what he was feeling. She always made her presence known, to give him the opportunity to refuse the contact. This time, he welcomed her in with caution.

When his eyes landed on Emma, his own heart swelled, and a warm smile bloomed on his lips. In a way, that was reassuring. Jean wasn’t the only one who had more than just skin in the game.

“Please, come in.”

“Thank you.”

Emma was wearing her regular attire, white bra that was maintained in place by a law of gravity Jean wasn’t sure existed, white leather shorts that showed the full length of her thighs and high platform boots that made her a few centimeters taller than her. She had abandoned the gloves but kept the choker. Jean felt silly in her black trousers and tank top. She knew she looked attractive. She knew the dark clothes made her hair look even more like a bushfire and her eyes even greener. But was she queenly? She didn’t feel like it anyway.

_Do you ever manage to make that mind of yours stop turning?_

_No, not really,_ Jean answered.

A cat like smile stretched Emma’s lips as she walked closer to Jean. Scott was standing still in the middle of the room, aware of the silent exchange and fighting with both worry and extreme arousal. If this didn’t blow up, Scott was going to have the time of his life.

_What about sex? Does sex help?_

Jean’s mind snaped back to the woman standing in front of her, well into her personal space. She took a deep, strangled breath. This was ridiculous. She wanted this with every fiber of her being. Emma wanted it too, or she wouldn’t have shown up. And Scott was already hard. There was no need to fake decency.

“How about we try it?” Jean places her lips on Emma’s, cupping her face in her palms. Lips opened, allowing their tongues to meet. No taste of whiskey this time.

“Are you laughing?” Emma broke the kiss, looking about as surprised as offended.

“I’m sorry,” Jean smiled. “You taste like child toothpaste. Is that strawberry?”

Emma frowned, clearly about to bite back an answer when two wide hands landed on her hips. Scott pressed himself against his lover’s back and lowered his face to her level.

“Can I taste?”

The fight completely left Emma. She arched back to offer her lips to Scott, running a hand in his hair. The kiss was slow, deliberate and intimate. It was the first time they touched like that. The first time Emma could feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his arms, the control of his hands. As combative as she was with Jean, she melted under Scott’s touch.

Jean would have liked to be stronger and give them more space. She would have especially liked to be jealous and offended, instead of touched and aroused.

Her lips found Emma’s neck, her hands her hips. Scott was there too, holding her tightly. Jean didn’t mind, there was enough of Emma for the both of them. She tasted the length of the woman’s neck, the curves of her collar bones, the sweet saltiness of her skin right behind her ear. Jean liked that spot. When men touched her there, it would send shivers up and down her arms.

Emma liked it more. The blonde let out a muffled moan, her tongue clearly busy with Scott’s mouth but unable to resist the sound. Her hands dug in Jean’s hair to maintain her there, nibbling and sucking at the little sensitive patch. Scott’s hands roamed Emma’s front, until they found her bra. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t give any warning, and just took it off and took hold of her breasts.

Jean took a step back, ready to call Scott out of his rudeness, but the second she saw Emma’s large breasts in her husband’s hands, all thought of complaints left her. They were huge, and round and as white as snow. Her nipples were small and pink, hard and pointing out from between Scott’s fingers. He was kneading, pinching, squeezing them, his skin almost dark against the paleness of Emma Frost.

“Oh, yes. The boob thing,” Emma mused.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, making up of the loss of her mouth by kissing her shoulders. “You don’t like this?”

“It’s nice. But I remember, Jean likes it too.” Without warning, Emma hooked the hem of Jean’s tank top and lifted it up. Jean was wearing a bra this time and Emma grumbled in annoyance. “Raise your arms.” Emma ordered and before she really knew what was happening to her, Jean found herself bare breast.

Emma’s hands were cold, making her gasp in surprise as they landed on her chest. “You’re really sensitive here, aren’t you?”

Emma didn’t allow her to answer. She covered her mouth with a kiss, and bit down Jean’s lower lip.

“She is,” Scott said. “You can even make her cum just by touching her chest.”

“Scott!” Jean’s face turned flaming red with both anger and embarrassment. The cry startled him, and despite the red visor, Jean would see that he was staring at her with wide eyes. Emma, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less impressed.

“Really? I want to try.” Before Jean had the time to say or do anything, Emma bowed to catch one of her nipples in her mouth. In the process, she pushed her ass against Scott’s crotch, taking both members of the married couple by surprise.

“Fuck, Emma…” Scott let out.

 _That’s part of the plan, yes,_ Emma projected to the both of them, her mouth still sucking on Jean’s breast. _Take your shirt off, Scott. You’re the only one left and I’m a bit busy._

Scott obeyed eagerly and Emma took the chance to kiss Jean once more and push her back until her legs hit the edge of the bed. Jean didn’t need to be prompted. She climbed up on the mattress and extended a hand to her female lover. By the time Scott had disregarded his shirt, Emma was on top of her, kissing her fiercely as Jean held her close. Emma’s hard nipples were pressed against her own breasts, her hands were in her hair, white lips on hers.

This had to be what heaven felt like.

The moment Scott knelled down next to them, Jean realized she had been wrong. She reached out to touch him, his chest and then his face. He kissed her palm and sucked in the tip of the thumb. This is what heaven felt like. Like the both of them together.

Emma’s lips found their way back to Jean’s breasts and all coherent thought abandoned her. Jean knew she was stupidly sensitive there. Scott had been right; it was possible to make her orgasm just by paying attention to her breasts. And Emma had clearly taken that fact as a challenge. She was trying everything, coming back to whatever got the biggest response out of Jean, switching from one boob to the other in a devilish dance.

“Emma, please slow down. I haven’t even taken my trousers off yet.”

“If that’s the only thing holding you back…” Scott answered, and Jean felt Emma’s smile against her skin. She didn’t stop but moved enough to allow Scott access to Jean’s pants. Were they ganging up on her?

As Scott removed her trousers in one swift motion, Jean decided she wouldn’t let herself be overwhelmed that way. She needed some control over what was happening to her, and right now, all she felt was the excruciating need to let Emma do with her whatever she wanted.

“Slow down, I said.” She managed to let out pitifully. “Slow down…”

_Why? You’re enjoying this, I can tell. And so am I._

_It’s too much Emma. I’m going to… Slow down._

Her discomfort was growing more palpable and Emma relented. She abandoned Jean’s breasts to kiss her nose.

“You’re safe, love. You can let go.”

“I can’t. When I do, I end up breaking something or hurting someone.”

Emma looked at her with surprise and then turned to Scott for confirmation. Yes, this was a thing for the both of them. Scott had to be very careful with his glasses, or he would blow up the room and hurt his wife. Jean needed to be cautious with her telekinesis. Breaking a lamp or a mirror by accident was no big deal. But once, she had broken Scott’s glasses and almost brought down the cupboard on them. All furniture had been pushed away from the bed, but it remained a source of worry.

Emma straddled Jean’s hip and sat up. She looked divine in the soft evening light. Her hair like woven gold, her eyes like crystals, her face rendered serious by narrow eyebrows and pinched lips, her figure sculpted with care by the hand of a talented artist. She was composed, in complete control of herself and of the moment.

“You’re beautiful,” Jean breath out.

Emma couldn’t hold back the smile that bloomed on her face.

“I am. And I’m also indestructible.” She bowed and placed a hand by the side of Jean’s head. Her skin glimmered and turned unto stardust. “You can’t hurt me. Not by accident anyway. Even Scott with his pretty eyes can’t hurt me.”

Jean’s eyes widened. The realization seemed to hit Scott too.

“Can you stay like that?” Scott asked unconvincingly. His left hand ran its way up and down one of Emma’s arm. Jean touched her lover’s cheek. The diamond skin was about as warm as Emma’s regular skin, soft and souple, but devoid of any imperfection. No pores, no scars, no wrinkles, no hair. No matter how beautiful it looked, it felt more like touching metal than a human face.

“I could, but I can’t feel anything in that form. Even my emotions are neutralized.” Jean frowned, about to manifest her disapproval, but the other telepath cut her short with a diamond kiss. Maybe that’s what Piotr felt like? If so, Kitty had very weird tastes. “I meant it more as a last resort defense. If you throw the dresser on me, or if we accidentally loose the glasses.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Scott smiled. Emma sat back up to meet him, her Cheshire smile back to its normal pale beige and white lipstick colors.

“You would say yes to anything right now,” she teased.

“If that means we get to keep you, then yes. Anything you want.”

They kissed again. At first, Emma kept one hand on Jean’s stomach, but as Scott’s fingers found their way to her leather shorts, she took hold of him for support and encouragement. Scott’s hand disappeared completely in the white garment and Emma purred.

“You’re really wet,” he whispered.

“That’s your wife’s fault. She does that to me.”

Scott smiled and Jean blushed. Emma might have thrown her one of her devilish looks, had Scott not moved his hand deeper in her shorts. He was fingering her. Jean could tell by the way Emma bit her lower lip, the way she kept her eyes half closed, the way she rocked her hips to impose her tempo to the penetration.

Jean felt suddenly very stupid for just laying there, staring at her husband fingering another woman. She couldn’t really touch Emma without interfering with their fucking, but she could relieve Scott of his trousers and boxer shorts. Her telekinesis came in really handy at times.

The belt came off first, then she pushed Scott’s clothes down to his knees. She would have needed him to move to finish undressing him and he was clearly very busy, so this would have to do for now. His erection was massive, throbbing and glittering with pre-cum. Jean pushed herself closer to her husband, making very sure she wouldn’t dislodge Emma in the process. She took the length of him in her palm traveling up and down with a firm grip.

He was big. Even if after years of marriage she sometimes forgot, he was well above average.

One of Emma’s hand came down to touch him. Jean allowed her to feel the full size his cock.

 _And here I thought he was making himself bigger in thought,_ Emma projected.

_Don’t tell him. It makes him… well cocky, and he doesn’t try as hard._

_Noted,_ Emma answered, very seriously.

“Like what you find?” Scott asked, clearly on the verge of what Jean had warned about.

“I’d like it better if it were useful. Right now, it’s just giving Jean a sore back.”

That was a bit more than Jean had expected, but Scott smiled and pressed his fingers deeper inside of Emma, getting a deep moan out of her. He then stood up, removing his hand from Emma’s shorts in order to take of the rest of his clothes. Emma took the opportunity to remove her short and panties but kept the white chocker and the boots.

 _Are you sure about the boots? It’s going to be uncomfortable,_ Jean pointed out as Emma settled back on her hips.

_Maybe, but I think someone likes them._

Emma placed both hands around Jean’s head, grinning with intense self-satisfaction. She was right. Jean liked the boots.

To give herself some composure, Jean pushed herself on one elbow and kissed Emma.

“Ladies,” Scott called, as he kneeled down behind Emma. “Ready?” The question was asked in earnest to both of them. Emma waited for Jean to speak first.

“Yes,” the redhead answered. _Yes, Scott. Are you?_

_Do you have any idea how hot you two look right now?_

Curious, Jean reached out to see through Scott’s eyes. Emma, on all fours, her heart shaped ass offered, her pussy wet and dripping down her legs, her long curved back leading down to her naked shoulder blades, her white chocker, her messy blonde hair, her glittering eyes and her snarky smile. Jean underneath her, long legs, hips curving upwards to slender waist, breasts falling on each side of her chest, nipples erect, collar bones stained with white lipstick, lips swollen by fierce kisses, hair like wildfire.

Of course, he was ready.

Emma didn’t really answer. The look she was sending Scott was enough.

Scott moved his hips forward. Jean couldn’t see what he was doing but she had a full view of Emma’s face twisting by pleasure. As Scott moved deeper, her mouth opened, her breathing stopped, her eyes closed tightly.

“Fuck,” Emma let out.

“I’m not done,” Scott informed her. He pulled himself back slowly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having, before entering her again. This time he didn’t stop short of his full length and mercilessly pushed all of himself inside Emma. The blonde telepath was losing her self-control. A strange mixture of pain and pleasure was visible on her face. One of her hands found Jean’s palm and held on tight.

_Is it too much?_

_Are you joking? It’s perfect._

Scott started thrusting back and forth. Wet sounds invaded the room, and Jean suddenly remembered she too had a body that craved to be touched. Refusing to let go of Emma’s hand, she slid two fingers between her own legs. She was wet, almost throbbing with desire. A loud moan escaped Emma’s lips.

“Fuck, yes,” Jean heard herself say. “Fuck her, Scott. Fuck her hard.”

The order was immediately followed. Scott picked up the pace, adding the sound on slapping flesh to the depraved noises filling the room. Emma’s back arched in pleasure. Her legs widened to allow better and deeper access to her cunt. Her breasts started swaying back and forth, mercilessly teasing Jean’s chest with each movement.

_Is that what you pictured, when you were watching us? Your husband fucking me hard, while you encouraged him?_

_No,_ Jean answered truthfully. _In my fantasy, I was fucking you too. I had your ass, Scott your pussy._

 _“_ Shit,” Emma hissed. “Don’t stop, Scott. Don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry,” Scott growled in an almost threatening tone. Her reached down to Emma’s chocker and used it to pull her up to him. Jean almost intervened. This looked painful, and Emma clearly couldn’t breathe while he held her like that, half bend over, her arm unable to reach anything for support.

Emma hadn’t let go on Jean’s hand. Fingers loosely intertwined. Relaxed, as Scott kept on fucking her breathless body.

“Now that I have you,” Scott growled in her ear. “I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.”

Emma’s lips moved but no sound came out. Scott threw her back down, slamming her against Jean and burying Emma’s face in Jean’s chest. Emma gasped for air, but Scott didn’t give her time to recover. He shoved himself inside of her, slamming so hard against her ass the sound smacked across the room.

“Yes…” Emma whimpered. “Yes, yes, yes. Like that, please.”

Jean reached to Emma’s mind, half curious and half worried. But she found no fear there, and the pain was tangled with so much pleasure it’s wasn’t possible to distinguish one from the other. Emma was barely conscious. All she could process was the length of Scott stretching her, fucking her, as his hands help her hips so tight she couldn’t move.

Jean felt herself be sucked in. It was like missing a step in the dark, her whole gravity shifted, and she suddenly felt herself swallowed down. Her mind tangled itself in Emma’s. The White Queen’s mind latched on to her, holding her so tight that their thoughts mingled and echoes in each other’s head.

“Scott, yes!” The cry came out of both of them at the same time. To Scott’s merit, he didn’t let the strange occurrence slow him down. “Oh my god…”

Jean could feel her fingers rubbing circles around her clit. She could feel Emma’s face buried in her breasts, her lips teasing her skin. She could feel herself tighten, as Emma held on to her hand. She could feel Scott holding her hips, slamming against her ass, invading her over and over again.

When his hand landed on Emma’s ass, Jean felt it as if it had been on her own. A cry escaped them both.

“What the…” This time, Scott slowed down a bit. The change of pace was unbearable. She didn’t want less. Her fingers were working furiously, but as the tension in her body rose, she needed more.

“Don’t stop. Please. Please, Scott, harder. Fuck us harder.”

“Are you kidding me? Shit.”

Scott threw Emma on her side. He grabbed her hips and flipped her on her back. Jean rolled over on her flank and used the extra space to plunge two fingers insid herself. Emma moaned and kissed her. Before Jean could get use to the feel of her own finger, she felt Scott lower himself above the two of them and invade Emma again.

“Yes! Please, harder.”

“You two are fucking sluts,” Scott cursed. “Cock eating sluts.”

“Yes. Yours. Your sluts. Please, don’t stop.”

He was panting, shoving himself deeper and faster inside Emma, but it wasn’t enough for Jean. She needed more contact than just her own hand.

She sat up, not really knowing what she was doing before she threw a leg above Emma’s head and lowered herself to her mouth. Scott kissed his wife as Emma wrapped her arms around Jean’s thighs and eagerly lunged for her cunt.

“Oh, yes! Keep going. Just like that.”

“You okay with this, Emma?” Scott asked.

Emma couldn’t talk anymore, so she resorted to moaning in appreciation, one hand traveling up to catch Jean’s right breast.

 _Thank you,_ Jean projected to her husband.

_For?_

_For being considerate. You’re a great man, Scott. And I love you._

_I love you too._

Scott caught the back of her neck and kissed her deeply. Emma face was buried in Jean’s sex, eating her up and using her tongue to fuck her. Jean could feel Scott in her pussy, ramming back and forth with so much force it was painful. She could feel him slamming against her ass, squeezing her breasts carelessly, using her as he kissed his wife.

“Jean,” Scott growled. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So close, don’t stop please.”

“You can feel it, right? You can feel me fucking her."

”Yes. Don’t stop. Scott, make us come. Please. Make us come.”

And with that, Scott’s rhythm became frantic. And they broke.

The waves of pleasure crashed in Emma and Jean, reverberating in each other’s mind, overwhelming all their defenses. Jean was completely overpowered by the feel of Emma’s orgasm ripping through her body, making her tense and arch and shake with bliss. Her own orgasm overflowed her consciousness, taking her away completely, and echoing in Emma’s body. It felt never-ending, all-encompassing, unstoppable.

When she was finally able to unweave herself from Emma’s mind, Jean was exhausted, ravaged so completely she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to move again. She dropped on the mattress, barely able to avoid crashing directly on Emma.

It was Scott who brought her back. Slowly, kiss by kiss. He stayed away from her face, giving her the space she needed to breath. He touched her back, rand his hands slowly along her arms, drew soothing circles on her hips.

Jean raised her hand to touch her husband’s cheek. His skin was ruff, prickly with the birth of a daily layer of beard. It was a reassuring feeling, familiar and safe. He kissed the inside of her wrist and Jean finally opened her eyes.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey…”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. Emma?”

Scott turned his red glasses toward the other woman. Jean could see her breasts rise and fall with each breath, but her face was buried in one of her arms.

“Em? Baby?”

The pet name didn’t get much of a reaction. Jean couldn’t risk reaching out to Emma telepathically. She placed one of her hands on Emma’s shoulder and kissed it.

“I’m alive,” Emma breathed out. “Just give me a moment.”

Emma could have all the time she liked. She doubted any of them would be good for a second round any time soon. Jean wasn’t even sure she’d take the risk of having sex ever again. Clearly there was a possibility she would die from it.

Scott settled behind her, spooning his wife and pulling he covered on top of them three.

“Scott,” Jean whispered as he lay his head on the pillow. “Did you… I'm sorry, I lost track. Did you come?”

Scott let out a sharp laugh, quickly smoothed over by a kiss.

“Yes. That was amazing. I have questions though.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Yes, definitely tomorrow.”

Jean turned her attention to the woman next to her. Emma hadn’t moved.

“I’m okay,” Emma let out as if she had guests Jean’s thoughts. She rolled on her side and lowered her body so as to burry herself in Jean’s chest. Her body was warm, and smelled like sweat, sex and flowers. Jean wrapped her arms around her, incapable of holding her tightly, but intent on keeping Emma close.

The sniffing sound barely broke the silence of the room.

“Are you crying?” Jean worried.

“No… Well, yes, but I’m okay. I’m not hurt or in pain. It was a lot, that’s all.”

“Yes, it was.” Jean pressed a kiss on Emma’s scalp. It wouldn’t take long now. This felt too warm, too safe, too complete. She was falling asleep.

* * *

The next morning landed on them like a dream. Scott was absolutely ready for more sex, but Jean and Emma agreed that it might just kill them both. Even though the two of them felt perfectly at easy with the way they had fused the night before, resulting in the best sex Jean had ever had, the experience was draining, and they worried about doing it again so soon.

“Tonight,” Emma promised. “But in the mid-time, I think there’s something we can do to thank you.”

Emma made Scott sit on the edge of the mattress and knelt between his legs. His half hard erection throbbed as soon as she touched it. Jean had joined her on the bedroom floor, happy to have an excuse to kiss her new lover deeply. She wasn’t quite sure if this was just sex for Emma. Scott had feelings for her, and Jean had started to realize that she too, deeply cared for the blonde telepath. Emma had expressed no such thing.

But when her husband’s penis was pressed against their cheeks, Jean felt the right to brush the hair from Emma’s face, cup her chin in her hands and kiss her with all the lust and endearment she felt.

Emma answered her kiss with just as much feverish affection, before turning back to Scott’s now massive erection and licking the full length of him.

_Can I tell him he’s big now or…?_

_Better not. I’ll help if you can’t fit him in your mouth._

Emma looked as her with so much wounded dignity, Jean wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh or apologize.

“Please,” she snarled. “Watch and learn.”

Emma took the full length of Scoot in, in one go. There was no way to do that with deep-throating him, and Emma did it with a bafflingly composure. Scott swore his appreciation and placed a gentle hand on her head to encourage her. The two women then proceeded with sucking Scott dry, alternating between taking him deep in their mouths and licking his cock together.

Scott’s orgasm took them all by surprise. He ejaculated on Jean’s lips, jaw and breasts, missing her hair by sheer force of luck.

“Fuck…” He let out before falling flat on the bed.

“Yes,” Jean spat with disgust. “I can see that.”

“Not fair,” Emma purred. “Want some too.”

“Well, be my guest,” Jean answered, annoyed. “Scott’s happy to sha…”

Except Emma had no intention of going back to Scott’s dick. Instead, she took it upon herself to lick Jean clean. Her mouth first, with a languorous kiss, then her jawline, the length of her neck, the curve of her sternum, the full size of her breasts.

“You don’t need to suck my nipples like that,” Jean gasped.

“Don’t I?” Emma made her point by biting Jean’s right nipple.

“Emma, not right now. I…”

The fact that Emma stopped so suddenly was more disappointing that she wanted to admit. The blonde woman’s eyes opened wide, and she frowned without focusing her gaze on anything specific. She stood up and mechanically offered Jean a hand to help her back on her feet.

“We can’t do this,” Emma announced flatly.

“What do you mean?” Scott stood up to place a comforting hand on Emma’s hips. “Wasn’t this good for you?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Emma’s cheeks turned red. As if she was embarrassed? Was she even capable of that? “I mean, we can’t do this here. We need to figure out a way to avoid having sex in the school.”

“What’s going on?” Jean asked.

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Charles just informed me that he had to conceal the echo of our psychic fucking last night. By the time he’d managed that, we had already woken up half the telepath in the mansion and send them into a hormonal frenzy.”

Jean and Scott stood there, frozen and in shock.

“On the bright side,” Emma added. “I think Celeste might finally have figured out that she’s gay. Esmee might relax now that she’s no longer a virgin, and I have an excuse to go kill Quentin Quire.”

A few moments of absolute stillness passed.

“But…” Scott managed to mumble. “But you mean to do this again, right?”

“If you help me hide the body.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are always very appreciated !
> 
> If you guys liked this, I might write a second chapter with what happened to the Cuckoos. They had one hell of a night...


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